“She’s really an employee. The police made a mistake. This is going to be big trouble.” Someone started a livestream, muttering under their breath. “Showroom staff just confirmed that the man being arrested is the CEO.”
The atmosphere shifted. The older officer's expression tensed, his eyes flicking rapidly between Lucien, the girl, and the phones filming every angle. The effortless power he had worn with his uniform began to crack. Then, just as everything hovered on the edge of reversal, the glass doors of the Orum Drive showroom swung open, and the manager, the same man who had hesitated earlier when Lucien came to claim the car, rushed out, sweat glistening on his temple. “What’s going on here?”
The young employee turned and pointed. “They’re arresting Mr. Darnell.” The moment the name escaped her lips, the manager froze. “Mr. Darnell?” he repeated, almost in a whisper, his face draining of color. And in that moment, the silence in the crowd no longer held anticipation.
It held sheer, contained irony. The air around them felt stretched to its limit. The showroom manager, no longer carrying the air of authority, glanced around as if only now realizing he had played a part in what could have been a deadly mistake. The crowd was silent, every eye fixed on the officer, still holding Lucien in handcuffs, waiting for a response. Anything that might prove he still had control of the situation.
But what came out instead was awkwardness poorly concealed beneath a crumbling mask of authority. “It was just a misunderstanding,” he stammered, but the words were immediately suffocated by the weight of truth. Because at that moment, Lucien lifted his head, looked directly at him, and quietly said, “I’m tired of being called a misunderstanding.” That sentence spoken so softly struck like an explosion. The younger officer stepped back.
The showroom manager opened his mouth but could not speak. The young employee beside Lucien stood still, her gaze trembling as if something deep within her had been touched. But the senior officer still tried to salvage the scraps of his authority. “We were just following procedure,” he said, and for the first time, his voice lacked its usual force. But Lucien did not let him finish.
He turned to face the nearest livestreaming camera, then looked at the girl beside him. “I won’t stay silent today,” he said, calm and sharp like a verdict. “Not because my own dignity was insulted, but because this kind of insult should never happen to anyone.” At that moment, as if unable to withstand the pressure of the shift in power, the officer suddenly grabbed the stack of documents still resting on Lucien's car and flung them into the street. The papers scattered like torn wings.
Vehicle registration, technical specs, ownership papers whipped through the wind like a mockery in front of dozens of recording phones. “You think a few bold names on fancy paper can change the law?” he spat, his voice laced with bitterness and desperation. Lucien did not flinch. The entire crowd held its breath. Someone shouted, “What the hell was that?”